


Beautiful Boy

by wtfocksobbe



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Blind Character, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, anguish, maybe smut i havent decided
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfocksobbe/pseuds/wtfocksobbe
Summary: Sander watches a boy he doesn't know walk the corridor of their school, eyes hidden behind a pair of blacked out glasses and a white cane in hand, and he thinks, this boy is beautiful.Or, where Robbe is blind and Sander falls in love.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 30
Kudos: 54





	1. Watch where you're going.

**Author's Note:**

> i read a fic years ago about a blind boy and i still think about it to this day, so i really wanted to write something for robbe and sander, loosely based on that idea.

Sander is sitting in his biology class, bored out of his mind. He’s not interested in why plants grow towards sunlight or how they make their food. Instead of writing down these notes, he’s sketching, art is his favourite subject, something he can spend hours doing, getting lost in his thoughts it can absolutely consume him. He’s still got at least 10 minutes left of this class, but there’s no way he’s staying for that.

“Miss”, Sander voices, whilst raising his hand to get his teacher’s attention. His teacher looks in his direction,”yes Sander?” she asks, evidently annoyed that Sander has interrupted her speech on photosynthesis. Sander lowers his hand, “ I forgot I had to leave early today, I’ve got an appointment’ he lies. His teacher gives him a questioning look but nods allowing him to pack up and leave.

Success. Sander smirks as he walks out, leaving the rest of his class envious. He walks through the corridor of his school, humming Rebel Rebel by his favourite artist - David Bowie. He’s not really paying attention to his surroundings, busy thinking about what there is to eat at home. His Doc Martens hit against the ground and his leather jacket hugs his body perfectly, accentuating his figure. He's holding his biology textbook in one hand and the other is shoved in to his pocket, trying to get his phone out. 

As he turns a corner he immediately collides with another student. They are both startled from the force, “Watch where you’re going” Sander mutters whilst bending down to pick up his textbook and phone which he managed to drop. He's inspecting his phone, to make sure the screen hasn't cracked and turning the screen on to make sure it still works. 

“Yeah I’ll definitely do that” replies the guy he bumped in to, his tone is sarcastic and that’s when Sander looks up and notices his white cane. Shit, he thinks, Sander just told a blind guy to watch where he’s going. The guy is not alone, standing next to him is a girl, she looks at Sander with a pair of furious eyes. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” she retaliates whilst holding up the brown haired boy, making sure he’s okay. Sander looks back at the boy, he’s wearing a pair of blacked out sunglasses, so Sander can’t see his eyes, the boy’s cheeks are a light pink and his hand grips his cane tight. 

“Sorry I didn’t-” Sander begins to apologise but is cut off by the bell. Sander hears the boy sigh, whilst he rearranges his backpack and runs a hand through his brown curls. “Great, now we have to get through a busy corridor”, and just like that, they are surrounded by students and an orchestra of noise. Sander hasn't seen this boy before, he doesn't think they have any classes together, maybe he's new? “Come on Robbe, I’ll make sure no one gets in the way” says the girl as she urges him to carry on walking. “Thanks Yasmina”, Robbe breathes, and then they both pass Sander, making their way down the hall.

Sander watches them weave through the sea of students, hearing Yasmina issuing threats to those who are too ignorant to realise that she’s guiding Robbe. Sander can’t help but replay the boy’s name in his mind, wanting to know more about him. Sander shakes his head in embarrassment, his bleached hair falling in front of his eyes, he turns back and carries on walking in the opposite direction. “Robbe” he whispers to himself, as he pushes open a door leaving the school grounds. Once outside, he goes to the bike rack and unlocks his chain, taking his bike out of its bay. His eyes search the gates which students exit from, subconsciously looking for one particular person. Sander sighs, not being able to see them, and begins to walk to his friends. His friends are waiting for him near the exit, he can see Jens, Moyo and Aaron on their skateboards and bike chatting. Sander approaches them, fist bumping each one, before they all make their ways to Jens house for the afternoon.


	2. Lennie

"Are you fucking serious?" shouts Moyo as he dies for the 3rd time. Jens, Aaron and Sander let out a stream of laughter, angering Moyo even more. All 4 of them are in Jen's room scattered across the floor and his bed, they've stocked up on Cola and are sharing a large pizza. "Alright, I think it's time for a break" Aaron suggests, whilst taking the controller out of Moyo's hands. 

"Hey did any of you finish the science booklet due tomorrow?" Jens asks, eyes darting around the room. The rest of them nod, and Aaron hands over his booklet, "i'm not sure if the answers are right, but at least it's done." Jens could care less, he just needed this done, he couldn't afford another detention. He takes the booklet whilst thanking Aaron. Sander looks at his mates, wondering if he should ask them about Robbe, to see if they have any classes with him or if they know anything about this mysterious blind boy.

"Earth to Sander" Moyo says, waving a hand in front of Sander's face trying to get his attention. Sander blinks rapidly before looking at his friends, "sorry, got lost in my thoughts" he states. "Everything okay?" he hears Jens ask. Sander looks up trying to find the right way to word his thoughts, "um..I have a slight problem and need to know if you guys can help" Sander admits. 

"Sander dude, I love you but I'm not touching your dick" Aaron replies, earning him a slap on the back of the head, leaving Moyo and Jens in stitches. "No you idiot, a serious problem, there's this guy at school, he's blind and I fucking insulted him by accident and I wasn't able to apologise, and I have no idea where any of his classes are, so its not like I can find him and say sorry." Sander exhales, it felt good to get that off his chest. "Are you talking about Robbe Ijzermans?" Moyo asks whilst taking another slice and folding it to fit in his mouth, the grease dripping down his fingers onto his jeans. 

"Yeah, I think so, I bumped into him accidentally, and told him to watch where he was going" Sander confesses, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. His friends are shocked, "no way, why the fuck would you say that?" Aaron cries out, pizza remains falling from his mouth. "It's not like I knew, I wasn't paying attention, I was looking at my phone, then saw his cane, oh my god I feel so bad, you guys have to help." Sander is begging at this point, he has a reputation of being a bit rebellious but he's not a monster. 

"You guys don't have any classes with him do you?" Sander asks, and his friends shake their heads. "No, he's in the Special Ed classes because he's disabled, which is a bit dumb because I heard he's actually smart, he just can't see." Jens advised. " I also know that he comes in early to avoid the rush and probably does the same at the end of his classes." Sander nods, remembering the encounter. "How early do you think he comes in, I'll see if I can speak to him before lessons." Jens shakes his head, "not sure, probably half an hour of so, his mum drops him off and he waits for Yasmina who is in his form class." Sander thanks him and grabs a slice of pizza for himself. "Alright cool, i'll apologise tomorrow morning." The boys nod and go back to their game, betting on Moyo getting killed first. 

It's the next morning, and Sander has arrived half an hour earlier as planned. He's fucking tired and wants to go back to sleep, but something tells him that he needs to see Robbe. So he makes his way to Reception, looking over the counter seeing an older woman who was definitely not wearing a bra. "Um, I need to know what class Robbe Ijzermans is in” Sander states, looking at the clock ticking on the wall, trying to avoid the receptionists' nipples protruding through her thin shirt. “Are you his guide for the time being?” she asks, whilst typing away, “Yasmina called in, she’s having some personal issues and won’t be in for a while.” Sander quickly answers, “yeah i'm his guide, but we don’t have the same classes.” The elderly woman looks up from her screen, “not to worry, i’ll print out his timetable, you need to leave lessons 10 minutes early to pick him up, is that okay?”

What am I doing? Sander thinks to himself, it's too late now he decides as he nods, taking the timetable and scanning over it to see which room Robbe would be in right now. “Thanks,” Sander says, offering a small smile whilst walking to Robbe’s class. He’s nervous, his palms are damp and although he wipes them on his jeans, they seem to be getting sweatier. His heart is beating, he reaches the class and stands outside the door for a moment, taking a breath, running a hand through his hair, then slowly opens the door.

As soon as the door opens, there he sees him. Robbe is sitting on a stool, feet crossed over each other, leaning his elbows on the desk, one hand is holding a book and the other is gently moving across the page. Robbe is wearing his black glasses, a blue hoodie and on top a light brown coat, his hair sits just above his shoulders and Sander smiles, as he walks up to him. Robbe hasn’t looked up, assuming it's his teacher who has entered the class, he carries on with his book. “What are you reading?” Sander whispers, trying not to scare Robbe but manages to frighten the fuck out of him. Robbe jumps at the sudden sound and rotates to where Sander’s voice came from. “Who are you?” Robbe asks quietly, he knows this isn’t his teacher, nor is it Yasmina, it could be those kids from 2nd year thinking it's funny to tease him again. Sander takes a seat, “Hi I’m Sander, I came to apologise for yesterday”, and that’s when Robbe recognises his voice and frowns, “What, came to ask me how many fingers you’re holding up?” Robbe scoffs out, obviously still angry from yesterday, he looks back down at his book, avoiding Sander.

“I’m sorry, truly” Sander speaks looking at Robbe, “ I had no idea you were blind, I wasn’t looking where I was going and it was my fault completely, and to make up for it, I’m going to be your guide from now on, or until your friend is back in school.” Sander explains taking out Robbe’s timetable and re reads his lessons. Robbe is bewildered, he’s still trying to understand why Sander is here and how he found his class. “Um, thanks, but that’s fine, reception is going to find me a guide for the meantime’ Robbe manages to croak out, cheeks turning pink, embarrassment taking over. He hates when Yasmina is off, it means he gets stuck with some idiot who just wants to get out of class early. “Yeah I know, it's me” Sander replies, reaching over to take Robbe’s book. “So what are you reading?” Robbe automatically reaches out feeling for the object, but it's already in Sander’s palms. Sander examines the book, seeing small dots covering the pages instead of words. 

“Can you give that back, it's not cheap” Robbe exclaims, he hates when people touch his things without asking. Sander sighs, “sorry, here” Sander places the book back in Robbe’s hands, their fingers brush against one another's and Sander’s hand lingers a lot longer than he intended it to. Robbe places the book in his bag, “its called Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck” Robbe breathes out. Just as Sander was about to ask what the book was based on, Robbe’s form tutor opens the door, he looks at Sander confused, “Sander, you’re not in my form class, did you get lost again?” Robbe lets out a chuckle, a hand covering his mouth. Sander can’t help but find Robbe’s laugh cute, but he glares at their teacher, letting out a dry laugh, “Ha ha, Sir you are hilarious, but no, I am Robbe’s guide whilst Yasmina is off.” Sander looks at his teacher, just waiting to hear what he says next. Robbe likes the way Sander says his name, proudly with no shame, it makes Robbe’s stomach flutter.

“Well, that’s very kind of you, I’ll mark you both in now, so you can take Robbe to his first class.” Robbe begins to get up, slinging his bag over his shoulders, picking up his cane that was resting against the table. Their teacher marks them in, and leaves to another room, leaving Robbe and Sander alone again. “So, how does this work, do you need me to hold your hand?” Sander genuinely asks and Robbe can tell Sander didn’t mean this in a malicious way. “You’d like that wouldn’t you” Robbe replies jokingly, “ but no, you can just hold my arm, I can use my cane to feel if anything is in my way.” Sander chuckles, shocked by Robbe’s bold comment and holds on to his arm. “Okay, off to Maths” Sander chants, leading Robbe to his lesson. 

On the way there they talk about Robbe’s book and Sander is so invested in Robbe’s mannerisms and just the way he is. The way Robbe will smile to himself when describing one of his favourite chapters or when his voice is saddened when talking about the ending of the book and how his favourite character was killed. “Why is Lennie your favourite character?” Sander asks whilst guiding Robbe into his maths class, taking him to a seat and pulling the chair out. Robbe removes his bag and rests his cane against the table. “I guess because he’s different and misunderstood, he’s treated like an outsider constantly and in some ways I can relate.” Robbe sighs, not meaning to expose so much of his insecurity to a stranger, but he feels like Sander isn’t a stranger, it's odd, he’s known this boy for 45 minutes and he feels more comfortable than he does with people he’s known for longer. 

“That’s understandable,” Sander agrees whilst watching Robbe settle himself, getting ready for his class. “So I’m going to go to my lesson, but I’ll be back to pick you up okay?” Robbe nods appreciating the reassurance from Sander. “Okay, thank you”. Sander smiles, wanting to stay longer and keep talking about literally anything, but he has to go. Slowly he heads towards the door, looking back once more to see Robbe’s face before walking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, i haven't had Wi-Fi since saturday and trying to hotspot to my laptop has been painful. but alas, another chapter!


	3. Glaucoma

Robbe sits in his class, a teaching assistant next to him explaining the topic and giving Robbe alternative ways to study. He nods, taking in the information, “I’ll also write this down for your parents, so if you get stuck, they can help.” The teacher speaks to him like you would to a young child, usually this would annoy Robbe, but today he’s got other things on his mind; things like Sander. If you haven’t noticed already, Robbe hasn’t got a lot of friends, so when Sander came into the picture Robbe can’t help but get slightly attached. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, because he’s been let down before, so he reigns his thoughts back in and tries to focus on his lesson.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school Sander is finishing his essay, he writes his last sentence and clicks his pen. Looking at the time, he should get ready to leave now, if he wants to pick Robbe up on time. He starts putting his stationery and textbooks in his satchel until a shadow hovers over him. ‘Where do you think you’re going?” Sander looks up, his eyes meeting his teachers and he lets out a small sigh. “I have to leave to pick up Robbe Ijzermans - I’m his guide” Sander explains, throwing his satchel over his shoulder and standing up. His teacher lets out a laugh, “you expect me to believe that? What was your excuse last time huh, oh your dog had passed away, and I distinctly remember meeting your parents and offering my condolences, only to find out that you do not have a dog.” By now the whole class had stopped writing and all eyes were on Sander and his teacher. Sander admits he’s lied a few times to get out of this class, but of course, the one day he’s telling the truth he’s confronted. Classic Boy Who Cried Wolf scenario playing out. “Yeah I’m sorry about that, but I am telling the truth and I need to go.” Sander makes his way towards the door, only to be stopped by his teacher again, “I don’t think so, I suggest you take a seat until the class is finished, I’m not falling for your lies again.” Sander cannot believe this is happening, he is fuming, fists clenched ready to knock this fucker out. 

“Listen, I don’t care if you believe me or not, but you physically cannot stop me from leaving” Sander retaliates, he’s trying so hard to keep his cool, the last thing he needs is to assault a teacher and get himself expelled. “Sander, if you leave I will be sending notification to your parents as well as the headmaster that you have not only disrupted the class, but have lied and disrespected authority, so I think you should just go back to your seat.” Sander and his teacher continue this back and forth dispute, whilst time ticks on. Back in Robbe’s class, his teacher approaches his desk, “Robbe it’s 10 to, is Sander coming to pick you up?” Robbe gulps, “yeah he should be on his way.” 

Robbe is hoping that Sander is just running a little late, although his hope deflates a little. As he waits, his fingers tap against his cane, he tries to hear out for Sander’s boots thudding against the ground, or the clanking of the chains that are on his satchel, or his deep laugh. Time hasn’t miraculously stopped and Sander hasn’t arrived either, “Robbe'' the teaching assistant speaks, “I’ll take you to your next lesson, maybe Sander just forgot,” the pity in her voice is painfully obvious and Robbe just wants to disappear. They both stand and make their way out of the class onto his next lesson. Robbe is silent the whole way, but his thoughts are achingly loud, he can’t seem to turn them off, Sander has probably realised what a burden Robbe is and has ditched him, it wouldn’t come as a surprise.

“Fuck this” Sander shouts as he barges past his teacher and sprints to Robbe’s class, his class is on the other side of the damn school so he basically has to run a marathon, and just to make matters worse, the bell goes off and Sander instantly gets lost in a sea of students. He weaves past them as fast as he can, his breath ragged, chest heaving, boots slapping against the ground just trying to meet a certain brown haired boy. He runs past Jens, Aaron and Moyo who look back at him in confusion, he hears Jens shouting “wrong way you dick, we have History.” But Sander keeps running, finally reaching Robbe’s class, he slams into the door, it smacks against the wall emitting a thunder like sound, “Robbe I’m so sorry-” Sander begins, only to realise the class is completely empty. He leans against the door, bringing his hands up to his face, then to his hair pushing some strands out of his eyes, whilst catching his breath. Sander doesn’t know what to do, he’s not sure if he should go find Robbe and explain himself, or catch up with him at break or simply just go home. 

He decides to catch up with Robbe at break, not wanting to disturb his lesson, so he makes his way to History not caring how late he is, because the only thing he cares about is what Robbe’s reaction must have been when he didn’t arrive. Sander’s mind fills itself with images of Robbe sitting and waiting for God knows how long. A pang of guilt hits Sander, right in his chest, piercing it’s way into his bones. Sander feels physically sick, knowing that Robbe is hurt because of him, seems like the worst thing in the world. He takes a detour to the toilets, hovering over the sink, splashing water over his face, trying to cool himself down. Over on the other side of the school, Robbe is sitting in reception after he voiced that he too was feeling sick. The school called his mum, and now he’s waiting for her to come and get him. He is not being entirely untruthful, he does have a headache and would rather not be in school right now, but the main reason for wanting to leave is so there is no way for him to run into Sander. He never wants to see him again, he doesn’t want to hear his name or his voice, or feel his strong grip on his arm. Robbe knows he’s lying to himself, swallowing back his tears he replays the morning with Sander and how good he felt, the best he’s felt in a while really. Robbe’s mum soon enters the school, “hey sweetie”, he recognises her voice instantly, she pets his hair lovingly, “i’ll drop you home, but I’ll have to get back to work.” Robbe nods, his mum is a single parent and works tremendously hard to look after Robbe and pay the bills, Robbe really appreciates his mum and doesn’t want to know what life would be like without her.

The car ride home was quick, Robbe enters his house, dumps his bag in a corner, toes off his shoes and makes his way to his room. He’s lived in this house his whole life, he knows it like the palm of his hand, blind or not. The third steps creaks like clockwork and the familiar chip in the banister brings him comfort. He collapses on to his bed, removing his glasses and burying himself under the cold covers, eyes shut tight, trying desperately not to cry. He brings his arms up to his chest, as if he’s trying to hold himself together as he lets out a small sob. Robbe knows his hopes for Sander were too high, he always does this and he hates himself for it, he should’ve known that Sander wasn’t going to stay, no one really does. Robbe stays curled in a fetal position for an immeasurable amount of time, tears managing to escape from his eyes, he wipes them away furiously, angry that he’s letting some guy make him feel like this. The house is silent, but he can hear the cars outside and the trees shaking and the rocks against his window, Robbe blinks, rocks against his window? That is definitely what he’s hearing, he gets up slowly, puts his glasses on and walks towards the sound, reaching out and opening his window just a fraction, immediately being pelted with small stones. He hurriedly closes the latch, confused as ever.

“Robbe” a voice shouts from outside, “sorry I didn’t mean for the stones to hit you, I was just checking to see if you were in.” Robbe is dumbfounded, he opens his window again and shouts down, “Sander, what the fuck are you doing at my house?” He cannot believe that Sander is standing outside his house, throwing rocks at his window, like he’s in some shitty rom-com. Sander smiles, watching Robbe lean out the window, his brown curls falling on to his forehead, hands gripping the ledge, the absolute shock on his face. “I came to explain, I couldn’t let you think that I wasn’t coming” Sander's voice is raw and shaky, like he’s been planning what to say, he looks up at Robbe, “please, just let me explain.” He’s begging now, but he could care less, here he is at a strangers house when he should be at school, pleading for this brown haired boy to give him a chance. Robbe shakes his head, “go to the door and i’ll let you in” Robbe doesn’t know why he’s doing this, he was fucking crying earlier because of Sander, but he wants to hear what Sander has to say. He closes the window and begins to make his way downstairs, palms sweaty, heart racing, nerves wracking. Robbe opens the door facing Sander, “Hi” he whispers causing Sander to let out a sweet laugh, “hi” he whispers back, Robbe motions him to come in whilst moving to the side. Sander comes in to the house and closes the door behind him, dumping his satchel in the corner, seeing Robbe in his socks he removes his boots, but this proves to be quite difficult, “stupid shoes” he mutters whilst trying to pull them off. “Why did you leave school?” Sander asks, concern evident in his voice. “I had a headache” Robbe simply answers, whilst making his way to the stairs. The tension is unreal, you’d need more than a butter knife to slice through it, something heavy duty. 

Sander eventually removes his shoes and follows Robbe up the stairs to his room, watching Robbe navigate around his house is fascinating, he walks with such ease, hand hovering above the banister, fingers running across the whitewashed walls until he reaches the door frame, knowing to turn at an angle before entering. Sander likes seeing Robbe like this, independent. Sander steps into the brightly lit room seeing the walls covered in graffiti posters and landscapes from around the world, he notices a skateboard isolated in the corner, he can’t help but look around the room in awe, this is not what he expected, but then again, he didn’t really know what to expect, he’s never been in a blind person’s room before. Robbe clears his throat and this brings Sander out of his thoughts, he is sitting at the edge of the bed, fingers fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, a warm pink painting his cheeks, Sander takes a seat at Robbe’s desk on his office chair, wheeling himself a bit closer to Robbe. “So” Robbe begins, voice shy, “what’s the story?” He’s just waiting to hear those sharp words come from Sander’s mouth, “you’re a burden”, “i don't care about you” , “you thought we were friends? Ha.`` Tears form in Robbe’s eyes just at the thought, he hears Sander take a deep breath and begins his version of events.

“So there you have it, that’s my story” the whole time Sander was talking his eyes did not leave Robbe, taking in each emotion. They both sit in an awkward silence, Robbe not knowing what to say and Sander waiting for him to say something; anything. “Please say something.” Sander asks, feet pushing his chair forwards and backwards, wheels smoothly spinning against the tiled floor. “How did you get my address?” Robbe voices in concern. Sander lets out a small laugh, hands coming to forehead wiping away a bead of sweat. “I may have seduced the receptionist into giving me your address, and I might have said something along the lines of you needing notes and me liking her top.” Robbe chuckles, believing every word, hearing from Yasmina that Sander is a big flirt and quite the daredevil. “Just so you know, her shirts are fucking paper thin and she doesn’t wear a bra, free the old lady nips.” They both burst into hysterics, Robbe trying to imagine what the scenario would look like and Sander desperately trying to repress the memory. 

As their laughter dies down, Sander accidentally rolls himself a bit too forward and finds himself between Robbe, so close he can feel the heat radiate from him, Robbe is slightly startled, but doesn’t move back, instead he speaks, “I forgive you, I understand that you tried to come on time, thank you for coming over to explain.” Relief washes over Sander as he can now relax, “but, can I ask you for a favour?” Sander watches Robbe with intent, “yeah of course, I kind of owe you one” Sander replies, he’s intrigued, wondering what this favour could be. Robbe stops fiddling with his hoodie, “you can say no, because it is a bit weird, but it helps me picture people” Robbe explains, “but, um can i feel your face?” The question comes out so soft, a feather-like tone, Sander can hear Robbe’s nerves screaming inside, so instead of replying he takes a hold of Robbe’s small hands and places them on either side of his face. Robbe smiles bashfully, “thank you.” His hands feel instant warmth emitting from Sander’s cheeks, he slowly uses his thumbs to carve along Sander’s jawline, bringing them to his chin, the bone structure taking place in his mind. He carries on, fingertips lightly resting under Sander’s eyes, skin unwrinkled, Sander closes his eyes, lashes swooping down to tickle against Robbe’s fingers. “What colour are your eyes?” Robbe asks, whilst his fingers travel delicately across Sander’s eyelids, he’s being so gentle, not wanting to hurt Sander. “I believe they’re green, but they’re very light so they get mistaken for a blue at times.” Robbe nods, reaching up to his eyebrows, fingers brushing through the small hairs.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sander voices, eyes still closed, melting into Robbe’s touch. “Yeah, go ahead.” Sander opens his eyes, looking at Robbe’s face, the way he is concentrating on getting every detail, trying to form a picture of Sander in his mind, it’s cute Sander thinks. “Have you always been blind?” Sander hopes this doesn’t offend Robbe, “you don’t have to answer, I was just curious, because you asked about my eyes.” Robbe brings his hands back down to his own lap, thinking of how to phrase his awfully long battle with his eyesight. “Not really, I was born with shitty eyes, but I had sight, I wore prescription glasses until the age of 10, maybe 11 and when they stopped working I was diagnosed with Glaucoma at 13.” Robbe begins to fidget again, obviously a nervous habit, Sander stands up from the chair and slides onto the bed, turning to face Robbe, he also takes a hold of Robbe’s arms and turns them towards him. “That chair was beginning to hurt my ass” he explains, and Robbe chuckles, nodding in agreement, “why do you think I chose the bed?” Robbe picks his hands back up and reaches out for Sander’s face, wanting to finish the image in his mind. Sander gently places his hands back on his cheeks and lets Robbe do his thing. ‘What is Glaucoma, if you don't mind me asking?” Robbe’s hands trail into Sander’s hair, lightly pulling at the strands, trying to estimate how long Sander’s hair is. “It’s an eye condition, where everything slowly just becomes blurry, but light becomes more enhanced, almost like a halo ring, bright as fuck, but you still can’t see shit.” Robbe huffs out in annoyance, not towards Sander, but his blindness. 

Sander nods, taking it in, he doesn’t need to say anything, and Robbe appreciates it. Both hands sweep through Sander’s locks, “my hair is blonde, but like bleached platinum blonde.” Robbe smiles, “that’s not what I was expecting” he admits, ‘i thought you had jet black hair from the things i’ve heard about you.” Sander raises an eyebrow, “things you’ve heard about me” he repeats his curiosity rocket high , “things like what?” Robbe shrugs, hands making their way down the nape of Sanders neck, bringing them round to his ears. “I heard that you’re quite a rebel, a mischief maker if you will.” To this Sander gives a huge smile, his pearly whites on display. Robbe can feel the stretch of Sander’s skin, indicating a smile, “I take it you're proud of your reputation.” His fingers caress the shell of Sander’s ears before lingering down his neck, running over a prominent vein. Sander shudders, a small chill running down his back and a lump forms in Robbe’s throat, he traces the vein a few times, wanting to remember it’s placement. Robbe gulps, the lump thankfully disappearing, his fingers then travel up Sanders Adam’s apple, causing Sander to splutter out a cough. “Sorry sorry, I didn’t mean to press that hard.” God, Robbe cannot explain how embarrassed he is, he just made someone choke. Sander catches his breath, his eyes filled with tears, just from the shock, but he manages to let out a laugh, “im fine Robbe, carry on.” So Robbe carries on, fingers gently rubbing over Sander’s Adam’s apple, a way of apologising and trying to soothe Sander’s throat, and Sander feels butterflies forming in his stomach, wings tickling his insides, adoring Robbe’s characteristics. 

Robbe brings his fingers up Sander’s chin, skipping over his lips, wanting to save them for last, resting them on his nose, small and turned-up, a straight bridge, soft and delicate. Robbe moves his hands back to Sander’s cheeks, the warmth has increased tenfold. They stay like that for a few seconds, before Sander speaks up, “you’ve forgotten one last feature” Robbe can hear the mischief in his voice, he can feel Sander’s grin and can picture his green eyes staring into him, knowing how badly Robbe wants this. Robbe stays still, frozen in place, that is until Sander takes a hold of one of his hands, a small jolt of electricity sparks between them, Sander really stretches this out, moving at sloth pace, and all Robbe can do is let him, let him guide his hand to wherever Sander takes him, and he’s not complaining. He loves the way Sander’s hand is slightly bigger than his own, he loves his long fingers that wrap and his wrist, he loves the way Sander is gentle but can still take the lead, Sander is so confident and assured, it’s refreshing. Sander then lightly bends Robbe’s hand bringing it up to his mouth, his breath washing over the skin on his hand, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms, Sander eyes Robbe, watching the brunette let him take control, he lays a small kiss onto Robbe’s knuckles, letting his lips linger, hearing Robbe’s breath hitch, he slowly releases his hand, letting Robbe take back his limb.

Robbe is speechless, his thoughts frenzied, not being able to put them into coherent words or form a sentence. He knows his cheeks are bright red, he can’t stop the smile that takes over, dropping his head trying to hide his expression. In this moment, the only thought that comes to Sander’s mind is that Robbe is beautiful, so goddamn beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for the wait, every time i tried to write my brain was like no, lets re watch wtfock season 3 for the 10,000th time. but i was able to post some short poem/imagines/thoughts on my tumblr, so check them out if you want - im wildfirexsobbe, i usually post on tumblr when ive got writers block for this fic. 
> 
> i made sure this chapter was longer as an apology - oh and touch is my fucking love language so this chapter was heaven to write.


End file.
